


Suddenly Love Died

by caixa



Series: Short, sweet and sour: song fics and random prompts [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gender Not Specified, Inspired by tantrum Teukka, M/M, Reader-Insert, Short, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: Just friends, lovers no moreJust friends but not like beforeOf course you had heard the stories of Teuvo’s legendary tantrums but those were from the days before you knew him.Maybe you have got something wrong here. Maybe you are overreacting, maybe you’re too sensitive, maybe you’re being weird.
Relationships: Teuvo Teravainen/Reader
Series: Short, sweet and sour: song fics and random prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986439
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Suddenly Love Died

**Author's Note:**

> My first reader insert fic, cross posted here and on Tumblr.  
> Based on this Tumblr prompt: Just Friends by Chet Baker, with a Teuvo ship?
> 
> The title and the quote in the summary are from the song. It's lovely, check it out.

You run to catch the tram, jump in through the folding doors in the middle, pat your pocket like you always do, yes, the card is there like it is supposed to be.

You’re glad to be on your way home, glad that you hadn’t planned to stay over for the night because you are not sure how you would have handled it.

You clutch the pole when the tram starts moving and takes a tight corner, and when you wrap your fingers tight you notice they are shaking.

Of course you had heard the stories of Teuvo’s legendary tantrums but those were from the days before you knew him. For a long time, you never faced his notorious temper yourself: you only got to know him as a soft and slightly quirky romantic dork who could joke and ramble endlessly, and as a deceivingly mellow and calm young professional.

The first time stroke like thunder out of the blue on one sunny Sunday afternoon.

A football game was on TV when you were lounging side by side on Teuvo’s couch in his apartment in Helsinki. You didn’t know he had placed a significant bet (like the money mattered with his income), and then the captain of his team was given a red card and the opponents scored on a penalty on top of that on the 93rd minute.

“FUCK!” Teuvo shouted, already jumped up to watch the last moments of the game. He turned on his heels and kicked a side table, and a potted plant fell over, rolled down to the hardwood floor and shattered to pieces, dirt spilling over on the white wool rug in front of the couch.

You held your breath, watching with widened eyes his angry pacing, expecting him to calm down, apologise and clean up the mess but he never did; instead, he kicked the crushed plant again, pushing it under the side table, grabbed the remote control and shut the TV and threw the remote on the couch where he had been sitting next to you.

“Come on,” he said and extended his hand to pull you up, “Let’s do something more fun.”

The fun took place in the bedroom, and although it took a while for you to get in the mood, eventually you did – Teuvo seldom failed when he really wanted to seduce you.

After that you started to notice small signs. A dent on the shaft of his golf club; shards of glass in the sink. You start to watch out for signs you would never had even noticed before: raising voice, frowns, ominous silences.

When you spend time in a group of friends you sometimes feel like an outsider. None of the others keep the same kind of close eye on Teuvo’s moods; if he suddenly swears loudly or slams his hand on the table if he’s losing in a board game, nobody flinches but you.

If they notice anything, they shrug it off, or laugh it off. Even make fun of it, of him, and he’s so okay with it.

Maybe you have got something wrong here. Maybe you are overreacting, maybe you’re too sensitive, maybe you’re being weird.

Maybe Teuvo’s friends just get him better than you.

Then it’s this afternoon and you chill out with the most easy-going game of scrabble you can think of, and you’re too excited to notice the stretched silence and the ominous frown until it’s too late, and a shower of wooden tiles lands on your lap and you yelp in shock.

Teuvo doesn’t apologize, he distracts: gets up, pulls your chair for you, takes your hand.

“C’mon, let’s watch some TV,” he says, and you follow him to the living room, already thinking of an excuse to leave.

And you run to catch the tram, and notice half a block later that your hands are shaking.

Maybe Teuvo is better as a friend than as a lover.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback welcome.
> 
> I'm [caixxa](https://caixxa.tumblr.com) and [ badhockeymom](https://badhockeymom.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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